


The bitch of living.

by Now_GuessWhoIAm



Category: The Shape of Water (2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Angst and Tragedy, Comfort/Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Heavy Angst, Kissing Kink, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Not A Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 11:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13879602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Now_GuessWhoIAm/pseuds/Now_GuessWhoIAm
Summary: Hand clutching and sliding along his stiff, Dmitri whined longingly at the touch of his fantasy.He felt wanted.He felt loved.As he had never been before.He felt…Happy.For once in his life.





	The bitch of living.

05:00 5.3.2018

Dr. Robert “Bob” Hoffstetler was a lonely man.

He was a scientist working in a laboratory. He had no family and no friends. All he had was a few colleagues which he could tolerate; and one with a face which he would love to stomp his leather shoes on, just to destroy that disgustingly arrogant and overconfident prick’s smug smile.

Dmitri Antonovich Mosenkov was a lonely man.

He was a spy working on enemy soil. He had no family and no friends. All he had was one superior which he must obey, and one comrade which did not matter a lot to his situation.

Needless to say, when he first saw the mute janitor connecting with the Asset through the use of smuggled vinyl records and hard boiled eggs, he was…

“How foolish...” Dmitri muttered to himself as the warm water pouring down onto his body.

He did not even dare to finish his thought process, to name his emotions.

Within these walls was his shelter. Even though the small flat seemed empty, this was the only place where he could truly be himself.

Not the doctor, not the spy.

Just a man named Dmitri.

However, that did not mean that he would be facing his unnecessary envy head-on without any plan. 

Dmitri slowly clenched his teeth with the inner of his mouth in between.

He just named his emotions, he must face it then.

The soft flesh gave out pain signals to Dmitri’s brain, he stopped torturing himself right that instant.

He used the word "envy”.

Rinsing off the bubbles in his hair, he frowned at his word of choice.

He did not feel the lack of something in his life.

Certainly not the lack of personal relationships.

Did he?

Both the doctor and the spy were lonely men, yet that did not necessarily mean that he was one as well.

Dmitri chuckled softly, he must be losing his mind.

He was both the doctor and the spy.

He was indeed very lonely.

“As if it matters...” Dmitri huffed, rubbing soap against his skin.

No, it did not.

It had never been, and of course, it would continue to never be.

He was not here in America for a lovely breezy little vacation with warm sunshine, calming beach, and smoothing waves caressing his feet. He was here for a noble cause: His beloved country was at a war which the world would not openly acknowledge, for they all feared of it becoming the reality; and he was here to help his motherland win.

He would be an unsung hero.

For that, there was no need for any luxuries.

Apparently his superior also agreed with that statement, hence the small flat with only shower was given to him.

That, as well as for efficiency and effectiveness.

They had always cared for nothing but results.

Not that Dmitri would mind.

He would prefer results as well. Showers were efficient and effective, less time-consuming and more hygienic. Baths, on the other hand, were nowhere close to being efficient and effective. Sitting in a tub of water that would gradually become dirtier and colder was certainly time-consuming and unhygienic.

Yet, treating results as the first and foremost priority would sometimes lead to some unethical processes.

Therefore, it would only be understandable for his superior to order him to retreat and destroy the possibility of the Americans discovering anything useful from the Asset.

Understandable, but unacceptable.

“Who am I to question their authority…” Dmitri asked with a voice as weak as a whisper for mercy.

He used cold water to be rid of his doubts and the soap on his skin, but he then decided it was too cold for him to bear, and resumed the water’s temperature.

He did not enjoy coldness. He had always been a patriot, but he never liked the freezing temperature of his motherland. When he first arrived America, he had been sent to a relatively warm place. He enjoyed a lot when his skin was met by smoothing breeze instead of piercing storm, when his skin was kissed by the caring sun instead of the unforgiving snow.

However, as always, what Dmitri enjoyed did not matter to anyone.

Especially to his superior.

In this unfortunate case, he was merely a scientist unable to stop the execution of an intelligent being, a spy dependent on his merciless handler. He could not possibly prevent the cruelty which had done and soon to be done upon that poor creature, and certainly could not bring himself to do it.

While Dmitri acknowledged his lack of personal relationships, he did not wish to be the one who ended others’.

He did not know much, but one must be both completely ignorant and oblivious to fail to notice the happiness and peaceful bliss shared between the Asset and the help.

The Asset’s side of the story was easy to deduce: He was chained and dragged from some peaceful river in South America where he had been worshipped and loved, all the way to a fish tank in Baltimore meanwhile being tormented by a monstrous sadist; of course he would give in to the kindness she provided, it was the first since months.

As for the janitor’s side of the story, Dmitri did not learn enough to make an accurate deduction. However, he had seen enough to make an assumption: Despite her friendship with her cleaning partner, the mute was often used by the other subconsciously as a way to vent about the frustrations in life; the times with the Asset might possibly be the only times when she was having a back-and-forth communication with any being, certainly she would love to have a companion who was willing to try to understand her.

Two lonely souls, connected under unlikely circumstances.

Dmitri thought it would be inhuman to also destroy this beautiful interspecies relationship.

It was always nice to have someone to exchange daily encounters, to share burdens and cope with pain together. He would be lying if he said he did not yearn for such company.

He never had someone like this in his life.

Not when he was young, not when he was in training, and certainly not when he was here.

Dmitri might not be alone, but he was most definitely lonely.

How was it possible that everyone else had someone to be with? Family, friends, lover… The mute help had found company in a creature she yet fully understood, even that embodiment of seemingly all things evil had a wife and two children.

And there was him, who was ordered to destroy some poor beings’ lives and happiness.

He could not live with that.

Yet, he had to.

This was the first time when he wished that he had never joined the KGB, just so that he did not have to deal with such ethical dilemma.

Had he followed the order and killed the Asset, he might be able to live with the guilt of depriving the poor mute of her one and only companion, yet not the guilt of being the executioner of a biological marvel.

Had he not followed the order and let the Americans dissect the Asset, not only that he would be allowing an opportunity of studying the missing link to go to waste, he would be a traitor to his country. Treason committed by a field agent would most likely be sentenced to death.

Dmitri let out a sigh of helplessness.

When facing times like such, he only knew of one good way to cope with all the injustices in his life.

After combing his hair backwards, his hand reached down.

To be drowned in euphoria - even for only a split second - is his only way to handle his misery.

Eyes half lidded, he let his hand wander around on his chest and abdomen before slowly closing in on his groin. He moaned softly as he held onto his part, each finger equally feeling the weight and warmth of his own. 

He could have used drugs or alcohol, but it would have been too costly. Anyhow, as a proud agent and scientist who took most pride in his intelligence, he could never let himself rely on substances. It just seemed too idiotic for him to allow himself to abuse something that he knew for sure was harmful to his mind--

Dmitri chuckled weakly at his own attempt at escaping from the reality. 

Well, if it would be damaging to his mind no matter what he chose, he might as well be following his animalistic instinct and enjoy the simple bliss it provided.

Fingers caressing his length, he began to stroke himself. Every touch was precise and delicate, just like how he had always dealt with his subjects in the laboratory.

All was calculated.

Exactly like how he had been acting in the laboratory.

Everything was just a means to survive another day.

He had always been careful. He hated losing grasp of controllable factors. During times like such when all hell broke loose, a little reassurance that he could still control a certain number of things in his life helped a lot.

With a few effective strokes targeted at his sensitive shaft, Dmitri could tell that he was aroused. Using his free hand to brace himself against the tile wall, he chewed his lower lip as to seal away his voice, even though there was no sound to leak to begin with.

He had always been quiet. He never found the need to be loud in such situations. Something about hearing himself making vulgar noises made him feel uneasy. He was almost ashamed, knowing the fact that he could possibly be noisy when he was doing something this…

Embarrassing.

Intimacy was a waste of time, thus was forbidden for the greater good, as they said during the training. With this logic, it was obvious that coping by masturbation was an irritating obstacle which prevented his country from growing in strength.

Therefore, as an obedient soldier, he never wasted his precious time. While his body was doing the unspeakable, his mind was always calculating and planning ahead.

After all, multitasking was strongly recommended.

Under the principle of efficiency and effectiveness.

Grunting, Dmitri could feel his vein pulsing along with the rhythm of his thrusts. His hand and hips aligned, moving steadily in synchronisation like a well oiled machine.

A machine…

He would like to let out a muffled laugh, but all he could manage was a concealed whine.

Was that what he was then?

A machine?

Could he possibly be heartless enough to follow his superior’s order?

He could, of course.

Yet, of everything that he could lose in his life, he did not want to be rid of his emotions.

He wanted to remain humane, no matter what everyone expected him to be.

When met with an intelligent being so intricate and passionate, one should be studying their biological structure and mentality with the help of thoughtfully and thoroughly planned experiments. One should be treating such with delicacy beyond measurement. What must not be done was to tear them apart, as if they were some broken machine which could be milked for all their worth by dismantlement. The Asset was most definitely not a mindless animal which belonged on the operating table--

Or should he say the slaughterhouse?

Probably, since the Americans had unbelievably minimal equipment.

Did it matter?

No matter how much Dmitri ranted, he could not make a change.

All he could do was to beg for a miracle in which he was given more time.

To compare his choices…

To format a probable plan…

To do whatever the fuck he must do to save himself from this one hell of a pickle.

His heart ached painfully for his incapacity.

Frustration had gotten the best of Dmitri.

His breaths began to quicken.

He was desperate.

His movements were fierce with piled anger.

He just wanted to get this over with.

No more were his precision and delicacy.

There was nothing more than just a distressed man pleading for a hint of joy.

Puffing and panting softly, he thrust harder into his fist.

He sought for a solution in his mind.

How ridiculous…

He had been using masturbation as an escape, and yet he had to seek for an end to it.

Embittered, Dmitri took note of his wrist’s nearly undetectable trembling.

He gasped anxiously, hoping the short breath of fresh air could calm him down.

He continued his search, for ways to pleasure himself more and to reach his goal a lot faster. He fished thoroughly in his mind for people of which could save him from this prolonged ordeal.

No one.

No one came to his rescue.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried his best to imagine someone, anyone.

Blank.

Absolutely… Empty.

Surrounded by emptiness, Dmitri quivered with terror.

His breaths lost their steady rhythm.

He had no one.

Quickening.

All he ever had was himself.

Halting.

He was forsaken.

With a saddening conclusion, Dmitri’s breaths were slowly brought back to normal.

It was not something that he had yet learnt. No one cared for him: Not his superior, certainly not Dr. Hoffstetler’s coworkers (most definitely not that bastard whose dick was made 99.99% of both his despicable personality and unusually lengthy cattle prod, which he absolutely adored and often swang around into someone else’s business). Everyone whom he had ever met in his life, more or less, wanted to use him merely for his worth.

Despite being fully aware of this invariable fact, he was still pained by the terrible feeling it brought upon him.

Did the Asset feel the same?

Lonely and empty?

He wondered for a brief moment.

No, not likely.

They were not similar.

Not anymore.

Huffing with voiced annoyance, Dmitri then began to imagine.

What if someone did care for him?

It was indeed an unrealistic wish that someone would care not for his worth but only for his presence. Having someone by his side could not drastically improve his situation, it nonetheless might help with the gaping hole in his life.

Moments like this, he craved for a cure for his loneliness and emptiness.

Nothing special or over-the-top.

A hug would suffice his thirst for human contact.

Shivering, he moaned softly at this thought of an unobtainable warmth, his cock twitching slightly in his fist.

A faint smile slowly found its way onto Dmitri’s face.

He had finally found his release.

The warmth he felt on his skin was a faceless angel, guiding him to walk safely through the mist until he could find his treasure.

He could feel hands caressing his cheek, and arms wrapping around his neck. He could feel fingers running through his hair, and palms massaging his waist and thighs. He could feel the hands dancing and tiptoeing on his body, igniting fire wherever they went.

Hand clutching and sliding along his stiff, Dmitri whined longingly at the touch of his fantasy.

He felt wanted.

He felt loved.

As he had never been before.

To him, loneliness was surely the strongest aphrodisiac. It amplified his sensitivity, made him hunger for things he should not have. His body starved for attention as if he had been a spoiled child or an unfulfilled beast. Now that he was exploiting this makeshift drug, his craving had grown way more powerful.

He wanted--

No.

He needed something more.

More than a hug.

Dmitri groaned loudly at the thought of receiving a demonstration of affection.

Perhaps, a kiss?

He could feel lips on his skin, brushing lightly with a smile. He could feel kisses landing on every inch of his being: His hair, his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, his jaw…

Shoulders heaving, he quickened and strengthened his strokes.

Each of them was gentle.

As if a worshipper was showing their devoutness to the sacred land with the only way they knew.

Whimpering with sharp breaths, Dmitri felt his long overdue climax approaching.

He was kissed on almost every spot he could imagine: His arms, his abdomen, his back, his legs...

Except for one place.

He licked and bit his lip eagerly.

The warmth eventually found its way to his lips.

He moaned weakly into the kiss, his hand and hips racing to chase the ecstasy. Begging for more, he stuck out the tip of his tongue as to return the favour.

He felt--

Dmitri growled loudly as he came, stings of milky white were shot onto the wall.

His parted lips were leaking inaudible notes of adoration for the warmth he felt.

His hand and hips were moving automatically as if they were to milk himself empty.

His mind was rid of all things bothering.

He did not have to think much in the bliss.

The truth was that, he was completely mindless.

Purring softly in satisfaction, he slowly let go of himself and opened his eyes.

He felt…

Happy.

For once in his life.

Yet, when his orgasm slowly fading, Dmitri started to feel terrible.

In fact, he felt way worse than before he had started his shower.

The bliss was unbelievably short-lived. What once filled him with glee was forcefully taken away, as he fell from the heaven of mindless joy to the small shower of endless suffering.

Pieces of his soul were ripped while the happiness withering away, leaving wounds larger than ever.

His loneliness and emptiness, along with all the unsolved problems…

They had returned to continue to wreak havoc in his mind.

They collectively gifted him a feeling which sickened him, to a point where he wanted to vomit.

Dmitri knew that he should be used to it by now.

How unfortunate that he was not.

Frowning, he formed a thin line with his lips. He took a few steps back, his back leaning against the tile wall. As he watched the trace of the silver magic slowly being washed down the drain, he felt his body becoming strengthless. Without the support of his limbs, he sat at the corner of the narrow space. He hugged his legs to his chest as close as humanly possible, and buried his face in his knees.

The warm droplets continued to rain upon his skin, yet nothing resembled an actual embrace. 

For the first time in his pathetic life, Dmitri wanted to cry.

Ever the slightest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Kayla and Jade for beta-ing!  
> They had been hurt way before each and every one of you readers are.
> 
> Ooh, baby, I used three days to complete this piece of work which has a word count of my three years hard work.  
> Someone, hug and kiss me like Dmitri had imagined (?
> 
> I originally wanted to write only sexy time with smol scientist, along with the line "loneliness is the strongest aphrodisiac"... Then, I was like, "shit, I need a plot"; and I remembered the song "The bitch of living".  
> After that, things have been the way they are :D
> 
> If I have been merciful, this short fiction would have ended at "He felt... Happy. For once in his life".  
> I am not.  
> Let's all suffer.  
> (I actually wrote the end first this time, so it was fated to end with more angst, oops)  
> (I specifically didn't let him cry in the end, so you readers will cry for him)  
> (Take notes, mate :D)
> 
> Welp, it sometimes be like this.  
> (Don't kill meee)
> 
> My Dmitri likes beach and bitching about a certain someone, he will probably dress like Griffin from MIB 3 when it's winter.  
> (Yes, I used "my", I have no shame)  
> He has kinks for fluff (and hands and fingers), well, I mean, same.  
> He is smol, and good, relatively speaking.  
> We must protect him.  
> (Even though he might be a better assassin than all of us, look at him killing the MP so swiftly)  
> (That actually sounds like a good AU, assassin!Dmitri)
> 
> Wow, you have no idea...  
> I first like him when he was shot.  
> I thought of a punk version blowing smoke out of his cheek holes (why? Because aesthET I C S), and suddenly he became the character I most adore.  
> One thing to another, this fic was born.
> 
> So, I'm being way more talkative than everrr.  
> How are you, readers?  
> Remember to eat a little, drink a little, and jump a little.
> 
> Since you have read so far, I have a few questions for you.  
> Which sentence(s) you do like?  
> Which part hurts you the most?  
> (It's okay to say the whole thing)  
> Will you protect this smol depressed scientist?
> 
> Well, if you don't wanna answer, it's alright :d  
> Just scream in the comment section below.
> 
> Thank you for reading this short fic.  
> More to come.
> 
> \- Guess.


End file.
